


Twisted Mates

by hellbells



Series: Twisted Mates 'verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter, Alpha Scott, Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, Beta Derek, Bonding, Canon Divergent, F/M, Hunters, M/M, Magic Stiles Stilinski, Post season 3a, Sassy Peter Hale, Sheriff Stilinski Knows About Werewolves, Spark Stiles Stilinski, artwork, slow-build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:40:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellbells/pseuds/hellbells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter is a new Alpha and Stiles is slowly drowning in a Nemeton fuelled misery. What if Peter offers a solution that Stiles takes as no one else notices. The trouble is if he is safe enough not to get caught by the Nogitsune - who is?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twisted Mates

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Twisted Mates (art post)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4332951) by [radlilim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/radlilim/pseuds/radlilim). 



> Warning: Incredible artwork of the almost naked kind!
> 
> So this is my contribution for the Teen Wolf Big Bang. I would like to say a huge thank you to Jason Kivela for the awesome artwork and scene breaks. 
> 
> Also, a big thanks to Casey_Wolfe and Busters_Jezebel for reading through it and giving me opinions.

 

Stiles knew that the pack was forever changed, ever since the chaos during the Alpha Pack’s campaign of terror. It was crazy just how many things had changed: - Scott was a true Alpha; there was no Hale Alpha; Scott and Allison were split forever this time (or so they said) and Derek had gone to South America. On the upside, although Peter was still being weird and creepy, he was also choosing to stay on the peripheries. So Stiles had decided to chalk that as one for the win column.  He knew that most people would think he was strange for liking the fact that Peter was still creepy. He wasn’t weird, as far as he was concerned there was a comfort in people acting to type. He was not sure he could handle a nice Peter. It would almost certainly freak him out. If he was being honest with himself he would not be nearly as much fun if he was being nice.

 

However Stiles biggest problem right now were the dreams. God the dreams he was having every night. The dreams he’d been suffering from ... were goddamn terrifying and he was thinking that - in light of his supernatural experiences. In fact, it was getting so bad; he was getting to the point where he did not want to sleep at all.  It was not like every dream was bone deep terrifying but there were recurring themes; doors ajar that offer horrific death; being in classes where everyone is signing at him in ASL and he can’t understand them.  He wished like hell he could shake the dream where no one spoke. It was so frustrating and he didn’t know sign language so he had no clue what his dream were trying to tell him. And then, there were all the dreams about World War Two; some were staged in a prisoner camp and he was one of the prisoners, or, there were the ones where he is in class - being asked to read and all of a sudden he can’t read.

 

For instance right now, he knew that he was dreaming but he couldn’t force himself awake. He thought he’d done it once, awakening in Lydia’s arms. It should be nice to have that happen - a fantasy even.  This was no kinky fantasy the mood setting was all wrong. The room was dark and moody - the most unsettling part of the dream was the door.  The trouble was he saw the door ajar and knew he hadn’t left it that way. He wished this was ‘Inception’ right now, only it wasn’t and he had to force himself to awaken - only he had tried. He couldn’t wake up. He was stepping closer to the door of his bedroom, which was ajar. Whatever was waiting behind the door was not in the hallway. He could never recall billowing smoke. It was stupid. He kept walking closer, to the door. Dream Lydia was telling him not to the open door but he had to. His insatiable curiosity would always lead to him opening the door - he needed to know what was on the other side of the door.

 

The next thing he knows, he is screaming, “Don’t let them in!”

He can’t stop screaming even though he has broken free of the dream. His throat is hoarse from screaming.  He feels like he is losing his mind and soon - he won't know the difference between the dreams and reality no matter how hard he tries. It is his worse fear and nightmare all wrapped in family trauma as it was unsettlingly close to how his mother died.

 

And just as the panic attack starts to take root. He feels the strong arms engulf him. Stiles was no wolf but the scent of his father would always be settling and calming for him. It was a relief, knowing his Dad was close he finally manages to relax and collapses back against his Dad and the bed. If only he could get his heart beat under control he would be happier about it.

  
  


He hates the way his Dad is looking at him - full of parental concern and guilt. Stiles has no clue why he is feeling guilty. As far as Stiles is concerned, if the price of making sure his Dad was in one piece was a few bad dreams then that was a price he was happy to pay. He just wished he didn’t feel so very fucking alone. It was that part he was struggling to deal with.

 

It was ridiculous. The last thing he should feel is alone.

 

And yet he did.

  
Ever since Scott had become Mr True Alpha - he let the title go to his head. He was so sure he was in the right and saw everything in black and white. He loved Scott like a brother but he could frustrate the hell out of Stiles and he was doing it so well right now.  To Scott despite supposedly hating everything about being a wolf - he was excluding Stiles from more and more.   
  
Stiles was human and therefore too squishable ... In Scott’s eyes at least.

 

So he should have his pack but he didn’t.

 

He wasn’t being fair as he knew that, Scott and Allison were clearly all struggling from the surrogate sacrifice.

 

He just didn’t like the fact that right or wrong, Stiles felt that there was a gulf developing between him and the pack.  After all they seemed to agree with Scott’s directive. They would not talk to him  about what was going supernaturally but they were all perfectly happy to bitch to him about their friendship issues. He was glad that he had the pack and yet he still felt like he was losing a grip on his goddamn mind. He was growing more terrified of going to sleep, as the dreams were too damn detailed and they were always about the Nemeton. Right now - Stiles had a perfectly reasonable solution - he wouldn’t sleep.

 

“Hey Kiddo.”  
  
Stiles smiled at his Dad, even if all he could manage was a weak one. “Hey Dad. You heading out?”

He tried to sound cheerful but knew he’d fallen flat of his aim by the way his Dad looked at him.   
  
His Dad smiled sadly - ever since the supernatural shit hit the fan, his Dad had had to pick up a lot of shifts. After all, most of his deputies that could share his load were dead, “Yeah I have to go in tonight... Will you try and get some sleep tonight?”  
  


Stiles hated disappointing his Dad. It was especially true now that his Dad knew the truth and he’d stopped lying to him about the supernatural shenanigans going on around town. So with the truth out; he hated that he was still stressing his Dad out,   "I'll try."

 

He refused to lie unless it was an absolute necessity - that was the best, most honest answer he could give. He would try.

 

Although he was not holding out much hope on the prospect. **Sleep = nightmares.**

 

 

Stiles had done it, just like he promised.  He'd lain down with the vain hope of being so exhausted that he would sleep without dreaming.  It was a stupidly naive hope and sure enough at 2 o'clock -he was awake again. Sweating and breathing hard, as if he'd run miles with an Alpha pack snapping at his heels. Of course, he nearly jumped out of his skin once he realised that he was not alone in his room, scrambling for his ever trusty baseball bat under his pillow. Well, until he saw the occupant,

 

“God damn it Peter!” He said only fractionally relaxing his grip on his mountain ash bat.  
  
Peter scoffed in amusement as he made his way to the uncomfortable computer chair - if he was going to spend any length of time here; he would have to improve the furniture. It was IKEA for Christ sake. “I think God has very little to do with my continued existence.”

 

Stiles sat up for a minute, unconscious of the way he was naked from the waist up, “You know there are so many comments I  could make right now but they would give you delusions of grandeur.”

 

He quickly caught onto the fact he was less than dressed when Peter looked at him like he was a rabbit.  He hated conceding any ground to Peter but it was just too much. He was not used to anyone looking at him in that way.  
  
Peter did smirk at him, “I have a justifiable superiority complex not a Jesus-complex.” He sniffed haughtily, seemingly offended by the suggestion he was anything other than perfect.

  
Stiles snickered and he was so good in not making the comment he wanted. He replied airily, “If you say so. So what can I do my for my favourite creeperwolf?”  
  


“I’m your favourite?” Peter had to ask, delight evident in his voice. This just might go easier than he thought.

 

Stiles couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes at the excitement in Peter’s voice. “Don’t let it go to your head. Derek is on a quest to find himself so you’re the only Hale left and ... Where have you been?!”

 

He’d started off calm but was shouting and demanding by the end of his little tirade. He may not want to accept it but he had really missed the Hale wolves.  Come to think of it;  he had admittedly been feeling off-centre since he’d assumed they had all left.  He never thought to think about why he was feeling more off centre when the Hales left. They’d had the discussions about anchors and Stiles didn’t realise that he’d had one all along. It was just too bad for Scotty that his Anchor was another pack.

 

He was not quite willing to have that conversation with his best friend just yet. So he was delaying it as long as he could.

 

“I’m okay.” Peter assured him, not bothering to hide how pleased he was. After all, he could work with this as Stiles was not showing outright disdain.  Peter had never stopped to think that someone might care.  He had always assumed that whilst Stiles showed a fond regard for his taciturn nephew; he was just tolerated.  Peter understood that he would have to tread carefully - out of all the people in the know about the Supernatural. Stiles was the one that Peter respected enough to be wary of.  

 

Stiles shrugged, “Not like I know anything.   Scott is the shiny new Alpha and now apparently I can’t talk shop with the pack ... I’m too breakable although they can all bitch at me about their problems and eat lunch with me.”

Stiles knew he was coming across as bitter he just didn't care.

 

Peter rolled his eyes, “Self-pity does not suit you.” He couldn’t help but jab further, “You are doing a great job of it, mind you.”  
  
“Fuck you very much,” Stiles retorted. There was no anger in his tone, in fact, Peter was sure that he could see a brightness in his eyes that had not been there previously. “I’m a teenager. I’m allowed to roll in self pity.”  
  
Peter was getting surer of himself, stepping closer, wondering if he would get to the bed before Stiles took a step back.  He spoke with as much honesty as he had managed since his resurrection, “You have not been a teenager in a long time Stiles.  I stand by the offer I made you last time.”

 

Stiles may be tired but he was not stupid. He’d researched bites and understood the symbolism of the bite on wrist. “You were whacked out crazy last time you offered you can’t seriously think that I would be a good mate?”

 

There he’d said it.

 

He’d given voice to his thoughts and self-deprecation. The trouble with vocalizing thoughts was you could not put them back in the bottle and they could be used as a point of contention. Plus, there was the small matter of what his father would say?  
  
“Why?” Stiles was not saying this for any other reason than genuine confusion. He could not see what he had to offer the stronger much older wolf.

 

Peter sat down on the bed, in so far as he was perched a top. He was close enough that Stiles could smell his scent but far enough away as not to induce a panic attack in the young man. He could tell that for all his intelligence and wit he struggled with self-confidence when it came to things like intimacy. Plus, Peter was not willing to kick a gift horse in the mouth and Stiles trusting him to even sit on his bed was huge. He was willing to play the long game here - Stiles was worth it.

 

“You don’t know your own worth Stiles, and you’ve let everyone think of you as the sidekick for so long that you’ve started to believe it yourself.”

 

Stiles figured he was allowed the snort, “I’m only human. A human with crazy ass dreams at the moment.”  
  
Peter laughed hollowly, “Human! You have so much magic potential in you that you smell like electricity.  It is why the Nemeton sacrifice is affecting you so badly.”  
  
Stiles curiosity was ignited, “Scott is having the nightmares and so is Allison and yet they don't look like death becomes them.” It might be bothering him a little; he figured mentally he should be stronger.   
  
Peter snarked, “The Argent girl is wearing so much make up you could write her name on her face with a knife and not damage her skin. Oh, and she is having serious performance issues when it comes to shooting.”  The last bit understandably pleased the werewolf. If Peter was being wholly honest, in his eyes the only good Argent, was a dead Argent .

 

Stiles pulled closer,  finally listening intently to the information being given. For the last two weeks he’d been left to flounder as no one was talking to him. He knew that his Dad was getting worried for him but he would be okay. He never regretted the sacrifice - he would do it a thousand times for his Dad. “And Scott?”  
He was proud of the way his voice did not break on his supposed best-friend’s name. He was done being abandoned by Scott and pushed aside for his new wolfy friends.

 

Peter shrugged, “In all likelihood he is abusing the pack bonds to stay balanced ... possibly without knowing.” He offered, not that he believed it. He just knew that Stiles would struggle with his ‘good’ best friend doing something so negative. Peter saw things a little different; the boy liked to hold his morals close to his chest until it suited him.  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes as far as he was concerned Scott was not making the most rational choices. He was proud of the way that Peter tried to offer a reasonable explanation of his action. Stiles didn’t need it though - he had fervently been against letting the twins into the pack. They had chosen to side with Deucalion and participate in his mayhem. Stiles was of the opinion that if they were packless then they kind of fucking deserved it.

 

If he could point at  the moment when he subconsciously started to split himself from the McCall pack this was it.  It didn’t help either that when Stiles thought of The Beacon Hills Alpha - he thought of Derek or Peter’s twisted version; not super Scott.

 

Beacon Hills was not safe; no matter how much the McCall pack may want to kid themselves. They knew what would happen with the sacrifices and they had chosen to do it anyway. He would let Scott do his own thing with his pack.  It didn’t mean that Stiles would sit cooling his heels at home like a good little human. He needed to protect his Dad and the people in Beacon Hills who’d get caught up in the crossfire - when the shit hits the fan.   
  


This did not mean he was stupid or naive. He asked the most pertinent question first, “What’s in it for me if I mate with you?”

 

 

Stiles wished he could sleep but his Dad would be pleased to know he was feeling better than before the surrogate sacrifice. He wished it had come from something other  than snarking with Peter.  It had not eluded either of them - that this was essentially a discussion about marriage even if it was at 2 am in his bedroom while he was half naked. He wished he could say this was the craziest thing that had ever happened to him but the Alpha Pack had rearranged his definition of crazy.  
  
“What is in it for you?” Peter reiterated the question.

 

Stiles snorted but he was clearly not amused. He was more than aware Peter’s intelligence and vocabulary is far better than just parroting back his words.

 

“If this is a sign of the conversation that I can enjoy as your mate I am gonna seriously rethink all this,” Stiles said with no small amount of sass. He wasn’t kidding as he loved to trade snark with Peter.

  
“What do you want to know?”  
  
Stiles sighed and replied honestly, “Well to feel like I am not going batshit insane would be nice.”

 

Stiles had never explained it to the pack but having watched his mother slowly lose her mind thanks to her condition - he was genuinely terrified of the same thing occurring to him.  If Peter had not mentioned the Nemeton; then he was going to ask Melissa to check him for front-temporal dementia. Peter would never understand just how grateful he was for telling him.

 

“What happens in your dream?” Peter asked him, trying to ascertain whether they were run-of-the-mill nightmares, or, whether the Nemeton was sending Stiles messages.  
if he was a gambling werewolf; he was guessing on the later. It was just the way their luck ran in Beacon Hills.

  
Stiles scratched the back of his neck, thinking about it. There was no point in keeping it secret - he needed help trying to translate his dreams. “Well there is lots of symbolism and terror. I can’t read anything when the topic is WWII, there are way too many dead tree trunks ... Oh and my favourite is the ASL version.”  
  
“You know ASL?” Peter asked like he was trying to soak up every bit of knowledge he could have about Stiles.

 

Stiles was choosing not to think about why that was the case. He was still trying to get over the fact that Peter might like him in more than just an Uncle Creeper sense.  He still answered, “Nope but that would be typical for my brain. I get a message made more cryptic by the fact I don’t know the language.”

 

Peter snorted as that sounded just like Stiles. Still he could tell Stiles was stressed and this was a sign of it - if Stiles had been on top form then he would have already translated the message by now. Peter supposed that everyone should be fortunate that he did know sign language. He teased, “It sounds perfectly like you.”  
  
The glare he got was impressive - if he had been anyone else Peter was sure that he would have been terrified as it was he just snorted, “Show me the signs.”  
  
“I can’t forget them they are seared into my brain.” After all the nightmares had seen to that but then another thought struck him. “You know sign language?”

 

Peter wanted Stiles to trust him and ultimately bond with him. Knowing this, he knew he should probably offer up a few things about himself. This was not something that would cause any harm; apart from dredging up happier memories, “Yes Derek’s younger human sister was deaf so we learnt.”  
  
Stiles face softened at that but showing a deft touch, he offered no pitying statement. “Okay so it went like this ...”

 

Peter ran the signs through his mind. He understood what Stiles was saying it was just fascinating. Stiles mind really did work in a different way, “When is a door not a door?”  
  
“Pardon?” The boy really did look rather cute when he was confused and his nose wrinkled. Peter shouldn’t find it cute but he did.  He was finding it increasingly difficult to tell himself that wanting Stiles was wrong. He distracted them both, by explaining the words just signed,    
  
“That is the phrase your dream was telling you.”  
  
Stiles collapsed back on his bed and Peter decided that he may as well join him. They looked up at his ceiling so that they could trade thoughts and yet not have to deal with their closeness or the seemingly natural ease in which they fell into this. Peter could see the way Stiles mind was running through the problem. He could only manage the wild tangents that he was considering and dismissing. It must have hit him though,

 

“A door is not a door when it is ajar.”

 

Peter nodded as that was the answer he would guess too. The thing was Peter understood the significance and the Pack were in danger, especially Stiles. “You need to make sure you all close these doors quickly. A door into your minds when you are the pack keeping Beacon Hills safe is dangerous.”

 

Stiles agreed quickly but he wanted to know more, ““I know Peter but the sacrifice is making it difficult. Would our bonding make sure it closes?”  
  
Peter sighed because it would but it felt like cheating. It didn’t matter in the end, he liked and respected Stiles a great deal. He would not allow Stiles to fall prey to a possession or see his mind possibly used against himself or Peter. The bonding would be the best way to offer them both protection. He shrugged, “The only connections in your mind will be the ones that you forge with me or the Pack you work with.”  
  
He saw the frown mar Stiles’ face at the deliberately vague mention of pack. Peter understood the attachment that the boy had to his former beta but he was not the McCall Emissary that much was clear. It seemed that the manipulative vet had screwed that up - more’s the pity; Stiles was the more powerful magic user. He would be honoured if Stiles would be his Emissary but he was smart enough to wait for that as he would never force Stiles hand.

 

After all, the boy had killed him once before and Peter had not doubt that he would kill him again if it was necessary. You had to admire someone’s tenacity in things like murder when it was necessary.  Yes he knew it made him a little bit twisted but he found such things sexy.

 

Stiles was sighing and tossing and turning as he weighed things in his mind. He eventually turned to face him, not thinking about how they got from sitting on the edge to both lying flat on his bed - side by side. “I can’t believe I’m saying this. It must show I’m crazy but ... stay. I need the sleep.”  
  
Peter was surprised but smartly didn’t say a thing. It looked like he was close to agreeing. “Of course I will and Stiles? Talk to your Dad.”  
  
Stiles burrowed down, choosing not to think about why he was comfortable. He could smell the scent that he always associated with the Hales and smiled, “Sure thing Big Bad and I’ll let you know.”

 

Peter watched the boy fall asleep and knew he was in trouble. This was one of his better plans or so he’d thought. He could bind Stiles to him - stay sane and then he would have a chance to take over Beacon Hills without any bloodshed using Stiles connections to everyone. He didn’t factor in that his inherent fondness for the boy might make him change his plans. Some days he couldn’t help but think his life was so much easier when he was crazy. It was a terrifying time as he was not in possession of his faculties but it was a simpler time.

 

He looked as his mate snuggled closer and the weight he was seemingly carrying seemed easier. He looked to be resting easier in his sleep. His hand reached up to trace his features. Peter would not deny his fondness for the boy - His mate might be more twisted than he was in his own special way.

 

 

School was weird for the whole supernaturally aware contingent. First of all, Stiles could tell that Scott was jumpy. It was obvious to him at least; Scotty was literally freaking out looking at his own shadow.  Stiles could only see it for what it was thanks to Peter opening his eyes to the situation.  He could now tell Scott was a lying, liar who lies. He wished Scotty had said something. Instead he had been made to feel like he was the one going crazy - they might have been able to help him if he was struggling. Even knowing all this and the way he was being pushed aside, he still greeted Scott cheerfully,

 

“Hey buddy what’s up?”  
  
“I’m okay.”  
  


Stiles rolled his eyes not even bothering to dignify that with a response. He saw Scott sniff him and guessed that he could smell Peter on him. He had no doubt the creeper had scent marked him to piss Scott off. Still with the way that Scotty had treated him recently he had little desire to hide his interaction with Peter. Scott arched his eyebrow, in that ‘I’m the True Alpha’ way,

 

“Peter?”  
  
Stiles snorted as Scott’s tenuous authority might work on the betas but it would never work on him. “Yeah we had a chat.”  
  
“I thought we agreed you were going to take a step back from the physical encounters.”  
Scott tried to lecture him - it was adorable really but never going to have the desired effect. Stiles was not one of his puppies that he would growl at and suddenly he’d do as he was told. e would never offer his throat to someone who didn't deserve it and Scott would never be that person for Stiles.

  
Stiles laughed, “No. You agreed and I’m just going along with it, Scott.” He needed to friend that he did not get to order him about and he was no ones doormat.  He tried to make Scott see his reasons, “This should be my pack and friends too but you are the leader and everyone has pushed me away. You don't get to pick who I talk to."

  
Scott frowned and was still jumpy but Stiles realised it was not just his shadow - it was seeing Allison too. She looked as bad as Scotty did. There was a tiny mean part of him that was glad that the squishy human was doing better. Whilst he might be petty he, didn’t actually want them to be in danger . “Guys the dreams are getting worse for you aren’t they?”  
  


Lydia had stormed over, “But not for you?”  
  
Stiles was not sure what to say; he didn’t like the judgement in her voice much. He was not ready to announce all of the things that he and Peter had talked about. He was going to have to be sneaky, “Well, I’m still having freaky twisted dreams but I know what they’re telling me now.”

  
Lydia hated it when she didn’t know things, especially if someone else did, “Which is?”  
  
“The sacrifice we did is still affecting us and at the moment we have open doors in our minds that need to be closed, especially you Scotty.”  
  
“What? Why me?” Scott reacted defensively.

 

“You are the leader of the McCall pack,” Stiles said definitively.

 

Allison looked freaked, “Well, we need to plan ... meet after school?”  
  
Scott looked glad for the idea. Stiles looked sheepish, as he needed to sidestep this meeting, “Good job I have told you all I know. I’m meeting my Dad. Bonding time, you know?”

 

All of the pack looked at him sympathetically as they all knew that he had had such a strained relationship in the past due to all their sneaking around. As a result, they would not begrudge him his time now.

 

It was sad really. If the pack had been there for him and talked to him about real things then they would have known that he and his Dad were stronger than ever. Plus, there was a tiny part of him that was fed up with the pack coming to him for answers and research and then leaving him behind.  He was worth more than that and he knew it.

 

It was not like he was lying either. He did need to meet with his Dad - it was just to discuss how he felt about Stiles bonding with Peter.

 

It was probably for the best that he did not explain his plan to the pack - they would only freak and over react.

 

 

Stiles headed over to the station once school was finished. It was nice to go there for good things. He wasn’t hiding things from his Dad. He wasn’t trying to destroy evidence or do anything else that could see his Dad lose his job. He was glad of it, seeing one of the newer Deputies on the desk he asked, “Hey Parish is Dad in?”  
  
“Yeah, he’s in his office.”  
  
Stiles nodded and was glad to go in there. He looked up at the evidence board and really if anyone wanted to know where he got his deductive reasoning from they really didn’t have to look any further. He could see what his Dad was tracking and he was treading carefully into his Dad’s office by the sheer number of boxes. “Hey, Dad.”  
  
The Sheriff whirled around and looked sheepish for once, “Sorry, kiddo.”  
  
Stiles did not bother mincing his words as he and his Dad had hashed everything out. “So, are we really going down this route with Agent Douchebag hovering?”

 

Stiles had heard about the impeachment and his already low opinion of the man sunk lower.

 

His Dad sighed and Stiles could see that his Dad was as tired as he was. No that wasn’t true, thanks to Peter he had had a good nights sleep. Stiles had been making his Dad’s life difficult for a long time, if he wanted try and solve a few cold cases then Stiles  would help and then plot how he could run Papa McCall out of the county. It was the little thoughts that would keep him warm at night.  He knew that if he asked Peter nicely he would help - just for the chance to cause chaos. They would just have to make sure the plan didn't end in a dead body. His Dad would be disappointed if he had to to hide a body.

 

He could see his Dad frown in confusion. He asked, “What?”

He wanted to try and understand where his Dad’s mind was at before he tackled the Peter discussion. He was thinking along the lines of one shock at a time - it might be better for his heart.

 

His dad sighed, “I was about to say ‘You can’t blame yourself son,’ but  then I noticed you shifting  from guilt to outright glee so now I’m worried.”  
  


Stiles didn’t laugh as that would be rude, he winked instead, “Best you don’t know and I have no intention of committing anything illegal.”  
  
“That is not comforting,” was his Dad’s honest response.  
  
Stiles snickered but chose to deflect his attention, “So, what case is keeping you up at night?”  
  
His Dad didn’t bother to play the it’s confidential line - Stiles had been looking at cases since before he was allowed. His Dad appreciated having someone he could bounce ideas off and the way he thinks means he will see other things that some of the Deputies miss. He received the file and listened. He didn’t remember the Tate case it was too long ago and it was not long after his Mom got diagnosed so his mind had been elsewhere at the time. He heard the details and summarised them back, “So brutal claw marks, night of the full moon? You think it was a werewolf?”  
  
“Were-something at least.” His Dad said, not quite sure how he could explain it. Stiles got it - it was a cop thing, sometimes the only thing they could follow was their gut instinct.  
  
Having looked through the file -Stiles couldn't help but agree with his Pops.  “Well, alright then. Let’s go see the wreck and figure it out.”  
  
His Dad knew him too well, “Stiles?”  
  
He didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. “I read the case file and I think the girl escaped on foot.”

 

His Dad frowned, not seeing what he was saying. “Stiles we never found the body ... it was three days of continual searches but the weather was terrible; rained the whole time. Hell, we never found any foot prints at all.”  
  
Stiles shook his head, “You found a coyote’s tracks though, more than one.” He pointed to the note written in the police report.

 

He saw the realisation sink into his Dad, “You think she might be alive.”  
  
Stiles shrugged, “I hope so, but Dad if she is then she would have been a coyote for a while.”

 

He could see that his Dad had made up his mind. “Bring your gun case and grab your coat.”

 

“Yes, Sir.” Stiles said it laughing and happy. He missed these moments with his Dad. Okay granted, not many parents tell their kid to grab their gun and go hunting for a potential were-coyote - but how many lived in Beacon Hills?

 

 

They loaded up into his Dad’s new cruiser. His Dad waited until he was on the open road to ask him, “So, what do you want to talk to me about?”  
  
Stiles put his feet up on the dash, a small little thing that reminded people that just occasionally he might be a teenager. “Well, I want your opinion on something.”  
  
It was true actually. Stiles knew a lot about the supernatural but his Dad had been a cop for a long time. His Dad got people and motives. Stiles trusted that his Dad would see something that his tired mind might have missed. He was smart enough to know that if something sounded too good to be true - generally it was. He was not blind to the fact that his fondness and want of Peter might make him blind to something.  He adored Peter but he would not be responsible for Peter hurting any of the pack. He may not be their biggest fans but he did care for them.

 

“Well? What is it Stiles?” His Dad was prompting him.

  
Stiles took a deep breath, “Peter Hale came to visit.”  
  
“Okay, and what does that have to do with things? I thought you were stepping back from pack life?”  
  
Stiles was not going to lie to his Pops. It was only after having lost their tight relationship that he realized if he could help it, he never wanted to do so again - hence the honesty. “Well, Scott decided that I’m surplus to requirements and as I’m human and squishy I should not participate.”  
  
His Dad chuckled, “He doesn’t know you very well and you’ve been friends for how long?”  
  
Stiles wanted to crow and scream, ‘thank you’, because that right there was why he had the coolest Dad ever. As he was more mature than that he chose to explain instead, “Well, Peter gave me a way to control the crippling nightmares and close the door in my mind.”  
  
Stiles could see the Stilinski guilt face creep up on his Dad's face  , “Hey. Oh. No. You. Don’t do that.”

 

“Do what?” His Dad tried to deflect.  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes even though it was a wasted effort as his Dad’s eyes were on the road. In fact, that made him think. He should probably table this discussion for when they weren’t driving. It might be safer all around.  
  
His Dad was getting irritable, “Do what, Stiles?”  
  
Stiles was glad that he phrased the question like that as he could answer it in a way that was not intended. , “Do the guilt thing. You’re my Dad.  There was no way that I wouldn’t come for you.”  
  
His Dad smiled, proud at that but Stiles knew that it also kept him up at night. He couldn’t help that his Dad had raised him too well and that he would do his best to see everyone safe, even if it meant that he might get hurt in the process.  His Dad had noticed the way he had stopped the other conversation.

 

He didn’t bother to hide the worry in his voice as he asked, “If you’re avoiding the other topic, how bad is it? Are we talking double cheeseburger and curly fries or free pass at the whiskey?”  
  


Stiles pouted, “I’ll let you decide.”  
  
“Oh, Jesus.”

 

It wasn’t that bad or maybe not. Stiles wasn’t sure and that was part of the problem. He waited until they were parking the cruiser. There was a small upside to all of this, at least no one would be able to overhear them. His Dad was clearly not a fan of delaying the conversation any further, “So what is the solution ... and Stiles if it is short of murder I’m inclined to let him.”  
  
Stiles winced as he was not so sure, “He offered to bond with me.”  
  
“Bond with you?” Stiles had heard that tone before, it was ‘I’m the Sheriff and I have every intention of shooting you right now’. It was a good job that he was having the conversation with his pops alone or Peter may have been trying his second resurrection attempt.

 

“It is not like it sounds,” Stiles tried in vain to make it sound not as bad. He could tell. His Dad’s glower let him know how badly he was failing in his attempt.

 

“Oh and in what way?  As for it sounds like the much older werewolf wants to have sex with my underage son?”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “Okay, so that is when the mates are in love and they want to do that.”  
  
His Dad did not look wholly convinced but looked less like he would tear away and shoot Peter where he stood. “And what about for you?”  
  
“Well, Peter is an Alpha and he wants to do it right ... my spark would balance him.”  
  
Considering what happened last time, John Stilinski was kind of glad that Peter was looking into ways to help balance his power. He just didn’t like the solutions involving ‘mating’ with his underage son. “And how does this help you?”  
  
“Well, the bond would be between us. Any pathways that the Nemeton or anyone else could try and exploit would be blocked by the Alpha mating.”  
  
He could see his Dad collapse a little in defeat. It was like the anger had been sapped out of him. He had heard that Peter was fond of Stiles - Lydia had hinted that out of everyone Stiles was the only one she would never worry about around Peter. Still, there was a lot of history there. “Kiddo he has a lot of baggage.”  
  
“We both do Dad, that doesn’t scare me,” Stiles was firm - he needed his Dad to see that this was a mature decision not a rash one.

 

“And the bit where you helped stop him?” He asked.

 

Stiles looked sheepish, “I think that is why he is fond of me.”  
  
His Dad looked at him in disbelief and even though he was not a werewolf he could tell that Stiles was telling the truth and really didn’t that just say it all. His kid was growing up and he would do his own thing. All he really wanted was for Stiles to be safe and happy. He was not sure that Peter could make him truly happy but he could make him safe. And in Beacon Hills one out of two ain’t bad.  He would be asking way more questions and there would be rules but he knew he would agree because this was his kid and there was no way he wanted to watch his kid be driven slowly insane.  “You two really will be twisted mates.”  
  
Stiles could feel the grin on his face, “And proud of it.”

 

The Sheriff was not sure if he was wholly okay but he would rather be informed and have the chance to set rules than be kept in the dark.

 

He knew in his heart that he had already given his blessing. Just by the way he was planning how to keep things controlled - if he could. He wasn’t holding out too much hope in that respect.

 

It took them a while but they managed to find the wreck and damn what a wreck it was. Stiles could see all the claw marks and could tell that this had been savage.  He could see his Dad looking pensive, “Is it?”  
  
Stiles did not touch the marks directly but held his hand over them and was jolted into the past.

 

The car, looking a hell of a lot healthier, was driving along the road. He can see the full moon up ahead and hears the howls. He knows that there is a pack out there but eight years ago when all this happened the Hale pack would have been running. The young girl in the back seat is fractious and it only increases with the howls. She is getting out of control and Stiles sees the moment that the driver loses control of the car. He nearly freaks out when the previously freaking out girl suddenly transforms into a coyote with bright blue eyes.

 

Stiles stumbles out of the flash back and lands on his ass in an ungainly heap. It was nice to know that some things did not change. He made a mental note to quiz Peter about his Spark. It sure as fuck had never done that before. He wondered if he would have to start wearing gloves. It was all becoming a little too Dead Zone for his tastes.  
  
“Stiles!”  
  
Stiles held his hand out hoping for a hand up. He got it and was quick to reassure his Dad, “I’m okay my spark is doing new things like letting me see the past.”  
  
“Did you see something?” His Dad asked.

 

Stiles chuckled weakly because, oh yeah, he had seen something alright. “You could say that. You are not looking for a body, Dad.”  
  
His Dad frowned, looking quizzical, “What is that supposed to mean?”  
  
“It means that she is not dead. She is, however, a coyote.” Stiles was not sure if this was in the good or bad news variety.

  
“Is that supposed to be better?” His Dad asked and Stiles loved the way very little phased his Dad. He truly was awesome.

 

Stiles honestly had no answer to that. If they found her and could get her to change back then it would be awesome and the good press would save his Dad’s job. There was no way the county would risk impeaching a Sheriff that had cracked an eight year old cold case and returned a young girl to her father. On the other hand, if they could find the girl then she would have lived the last years as coyote and she would find acting human difficult. “I’ve got no clue ... but Dad do not shoot.”  
  


The coyote in question was staring at them. She was clearly not happy with them here and this would definitely be a protected site in her mind. Stiles was not to be deterred and quite frankly, she was not the first were-person he had to stare down.

 

“Malia?” Stiles tentatively stepped forward, never taking his eyes from her face.  He stopped stock still when she growled. “What is it?”  
  
His Dad was hovering but knew that he could not interfere. Stiles had no doubt that when he got out of there he was going to get a lecture about scaring the shit out of him. He spoke softly, recognising the doll. “It’s the doll Sti’.”  
  
Stiles held it up away from his body to seem less threatening. He would never ever hurt her but she had been animal for a long time and had probably not seen a lot of human kindness in the meantime. “You want it, don’t you?”  
  
She stopped growling but she stalked forward. Stiles let her come closer and take it, he kept up a steady cadence. “You were not to blame you know. They were dead from the crash.”  
  
The coyote whimpered and a paw covered her ears as if she was unwilling to listen. Stiles knew though that as a supernatural creature that would not be enough. “I saw it you know.  It was dark and you were a little kid. You freaked out but Malia it was an accident.”

 

She whimpered louder but inched forward, sniffing as she went. There was something about this human that she could identify with.

 

“Can she smell the pack?” His Dad asked him.   
  
It was a sensible question but Stiles doubted it, as he was never officially in Scott’s pack, which was ridiculous but that was how it was. He doubted he smelled of anyone but himself, his Dad, or Peter. “I don’t think so I only would have your scent or Peter’s.”

 

His patience must have paid off as she finally got right up into his body and purred as if content. His Dad was looking confused at him as he was sure that wild coyote, or, half-feral children would not do that. Stiles had no clue yet why but he was not going to knock it. “Malia ... you need to change back.”  
  
She huffed and Stiles wanted to snort how certain teenage mannerisms crossed species. “Don’t give me that come on. I want to see that pretty face.”

 

Stiles could tell the moment that she had decided as he could almost smell the ambient change from the magic.  “Dad, I need your jacket.”  
  
And the Sheriff could see why. There was a girl morphed from the coyote. She looked strong considering her solitary life which was a good thing at least.

 

“Hey Malia,” his Dad offered with a gentle smile.  
  
They carefully helped her back to the car and drove quickly to the hospital.  The Sheriff would have loved nothing more than to simply return her directly but he had to check that she was okay first.    
  
Melissa was a queen amongst women and when she was tasked with handling a girl who was obviously traumatised. She handled it deftly and for the first time since finding her - Malia left Stiles side willingly.

  
His Dad had stayed back briefly, “Listen it is going to be a long night. You can go to Peter’s. Rules are simple, you can do what you like once you turn 18 but not when I’m in the house and your door will stay open.”  
  
Stiles kissed his Dad’s cheek as they were rules he could live with, “Love you Dad. Make sure you get some sleep.”

 

  
  


Stiles was smart enough not to push his luck with his father. He waited until his Dad had gone and actually walked to Peter’s so if there were any nosey neighbours they would think he was at home. Peter’s apartment was one of the nicest in Beacon Hills. Stiles was not surprised by this - Peter was all about the finer things in life. He just wasn’t sure how he factored into the finer things in life.

 

He knocked on the door and Peter was obviously delighted. “Why hello Stiles?”  
  
“Are you going to invite me in creeper?” Stiles asked lightly, but there was enough steel in his voice to let Peter know that he was not messing around. All he got as an answer was Peter heading back into his apartment. Stiles figured that was as close to an invitation that he was going to get.

 

Peter motioned to a sleek sharp lined leather sofa that looked expensive and so perfectly Peter that Stiles was impressed.  

 

“So have you come to a decision?”  
  
Stiles nodded, “I think we are assholes but the only ones who have a chance of stopping the other one.”  
  
Peter smirked, “I think marriage is best summed up with the quote, ‘If you were my husband I would poison you.”

 

Stiles knew the quote and ironic considering all the symbolism regarding World War II so he finished the quote,  “If I was your husband I would drink it.”  
  


Peter pulled him closer, wanting him to understand just what he was getting into he explained. “Wolves are tactile, especially Alphas. Will you be able to handle me touching you all the time?”  
  
Stiles appreciated the honesty and treating him like he was mature enough to know his own mind. That was why he thought that they had a chance to work - they had seen each other at the worst. Hell, Stiles had lit his ass on fire and yet still Peter wanted to bond with him. Stiles kept reminding himself that they are both getting something from this.  “I can handle what you’ve got Peter. Just remember dear creeper no bad touch until I turn 18 or Daddy Sheriff will shoot you up with so much wolfsbane that you will never recover.”

 

Peter laughed, liking his new father-in-law even more, “His words or yours?”  
  
Stiles upped the ante after a fashion, showing that he could handle being closer to Peter by sitting in his space so they were touching. “No, he said ‘make sure he knows to keep his hands out of your cookie jar until you’re 18 or I will shot his ass with Wolfsbane’.”

 

“Murder run in the family?” Peter asked lightly.

 

Stiles did laugh out loud before adding with just the right amount of snark, “Just as much as yours sweetheart.”  
  
Peter was not tense under him; after all this was his idea. He did ask an intriguing question, “When are you 18?”  
  
Stiles smirked, “Well, you can try and seduce my barely legal ass in less than two weeks time.”

 

Peter frowned as the rest of the pack was at least a year younger. He assumed Stiles was the same age, “I don’t understand.”  
  
Stiles shrugged, “Well, it took them a while to figure it out ... my ADHD and I lost a year as a result.”

 

Peter sighed, how it took them so long to see the boys intelligence was beyond him. It was pouring out of him everytime he spoke, “You may find that with the mating bite that you will be able to reduce your medication.”  
  
Stiles didn’t bother to hide his look of hope at that. He hated the meds and the way they made him feel. He knew that it was necessary so that he could concentrate but they made him feel not as sharp as he could be. “That would be good. Do you know what is stalking Beacon Hills?”  
  
Peter shook his head. “No we’ll complete the bonding and then examine your dreams. The Beacon is active so it is the Hale’s responsibility to protect the lands.”

Peter never stopped to think about the fact that if he was thinking this rationally then he was much better off than the first time around.

 

Stiles was glad, he could see it even if Peter couldn’t.  He was ready, on his part. What was bothering him though was he could see that Peter was bothered by something. “What’s got you antsy?”  
  
Peter looked down at him as Stiles had decided that the best pillow was Peter’s lap. His sardonic look was brilliant, and way more sexy than he had any right to be. “I am never antsy.”  
  
“Dude the guy with ADHD is calling you antsy ... you have a problem.” Stiles pointed out, making a valid point.  
  
Peter pouted, “And if I’m so bad why are in my lap?”  
  
“You’re hot. You’re my soon-to-be mate and I’m comfy.” Stiles shot back, and he refused to be distracted. “And you are trying to distract me?”  
  
Peter knew that he had picked Stiles for a reason but it was hard to remember why right this minute.  It was good to remember that he could not  manipulate everyone in this world. The young man in front of him was just one such person.

“Is it working?”He asked cheekily.  
  
“Nope.” Stiles looked at Peter seriously, “Peter we are going to be mates. You need to trust me.”  
  
Peter huffed at that because whilst he recognised the truth of it. It was not the easiest concept as he had had very little happen in his life to make him the easily trusting type. “You are distressingly right there is a scent I can smell clinging to you .... it smells familiar but I know that it is not right.”  
  
“In what way?”  
  
Peter struggled to explain it but managed it. “In the way that it smells like my child. It is the type of scent that Talia would have recognised on Derek.”    
  
Stiles was confused as he had been with a young person. He figured that Malia Tate definitely qualified. “Listen before I came over there was a case I was helping my Dad on it was a missing persons case. She was reunited with her Dad.”  
  
Peter was still stressed. It was not the idea that he might have had a child it was just that he can’t even remember when this might have happened. “Stiles you don’t understand I can smell the truth of it on you and yet my brain knows that it can’t be true.”

 

Stiles moved to comfort the older man, sitting up and seemingly uncaring about the position he had put himself in. It did not mean as much as making sure that Peter was okay, “Listen we will figure it out ... together.”  
  
Peter looked at him with such hope that Stiles began to understand that this is more. They both could tell that this would be more than just a simple business arrangement. They were too invested in each other for people who claimed that they did not care.

  
Stiles was ready to commit to the bond as he was not keen on losing his mind. He knew the rest of Scott’s pack were freaked but they had not had to suffer watching their own mother lose her mind when they were too young to truly understand what was happening. He loved his mom for now and forever but this last few weeks had made him astounded at the courage she must have had facing the slow decline and not showing it for fear of upsetting her son.

 

“How are we going to do this?”  
  
Peter pulled him further onto his lap, “I would suggest the bed but I don’t think either of us is ready for that option.”

 

Stiles let out a sigh of relief. He would have done it if Peter had asked but he would have been way more nervous. “Yeah, not yet.”  
His heart beat didn’t stutter this time when Peter raised his wrist to his teeth. Stiles swallowed once before saying the words he had researched, “I accept that I am yours, as you are mine.”  
  
Peter could not explain the visceral reaction that he had to hearing the formal words. He was impressed and he felt his eyes flash in respect.  He licked the bite wound and almost purred. He could feel the bond starting to form and was heartened to see Stiles pick up his wrist without hesitation.

 

He looked sheepish, “Sorry, I don’t have fangs.”  
  
Peter purred, “I’m sure I will enjoy it.”  
  
Stiles took a deep breath and Peter caught a wave of arousal flash across his senses, “Biting kink. Got it.”

 

Peter would not let the moment get away. “I accept that I am yours as you are mine.” He felt the rough bite but it was a momentary pain considering he was a werewolf. Also he could ignore the pain as the euphoria of feeling the mate bond snap into place took over.

 

Stiles was not squeamish and did his best to clean the bite. Peter was proud of it and knew that no healing power in the world would cover up this bite.   He could feel Stiles curiosity as he tested the connection. He wanted to roll his eyes at the way his mate was metaphorically and spiritually pulling his pig tails. “Let’s rest for now.”  
  
Stiles should be finding it weird - to be so close to Peter, a guy who not too long ago he helped put in the ground. . In reality though Stiles was not freaked. Here he was, sprawled on top of his mate as they lay on the sofa. Thankfully, Peter’s tastes meant that they could both sleep on the sofa and not be uncomfortable. Stiles was grateful even though it would not have made a difference to whether they slept or not.

 

  
  


Stiles found it deeply ironic that the first lesson he got to practice with his magic spark was how to hide. They both deeply resented the fuck out of having to hide their bond but Stiles knew that Scott would not understand and neither he; nor Peter were ready for the True Alpha’s intrusive questions. If they were lucky; Scott would probably chose to battle Peter in a misguided attempt to protect Stiles’ virtue.

 

He was dressed and ready for school and had used his spark to will away his scent. He knew it worked as Peter’s face was uncharacteristically vulnerable so much so that Stiles found himself cupping Peter’s cheek. “Hey Creeper, you can feel the bond. You don’t need scent.” He tried to reassure his mate.  
  
Peter was pouting which was ridiculous.

 

“You are a grown ass Alpha werewolf stop pouting.” Stiles chided.

 

“I can’t help it,” was the retort that was just shy of being a whine in Stiles’ book.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes, “I have to go to high school now. I should be the one pouting.”

 

Peter laughed because despite all his trials in his life, including his resurrection, the one thing that he did not want to repeat was school. “Well you are on your own there but if you can’t manipulate them all with your mind. Then I will be disappointed in you and you will not get my treat later tonight.”

 

Stiles brightened visibly at the idea of a treat, “is it kinky?”  
  
Peter chuckled, “Not in front of your father it won’t be.”  
  
Stiles shuddered as that would be bad.  He was just exploring the fact that he might want to start kinky things with him but definitely not in front of his father. “Fine but you’re cooking.”

 

Peter nodded amused, “Very well but you should go to school or you will be late.”

 

  
  


Stiles was really regretting coming to school today. It was sad but if he wasn’t determined to challenge Lydia’s GPA - he would not bother. He saw Scott come up to him and he was not in the mood for listening to his friend whine about what was bothering him. He had told his friend what to do to close his mind and that was all he could do.

 

Scott came up to him frowning, “Why was Dad in a mood?”  
  
Stiles spoke briefly because knowing the fact that Papa McCall was in a bad mood - actually made his day, “Because his attempt to get my Dad sacked failed miserably with all the positive press he going to get for finding Malia.”  
  
Scott was puzzled, “Malia?”  
  
And that just showed the gulf between them. Scott wasn’t a bad guy and Stiles knew that he had the potential to make a great alpha but whichever person thought a teenage Alpha was a good idea - was obviously whacked out of their mind. “Yeah you know the girl that was stuck out in the forest?”  
  
Scott shook his head. “With the dreams and everything it’s been hard.”  
  
Stiles was not amused because both he and Allison needed to get the doors in their mind closed. Peter and he were in agreement which was why he was so glad that his bond the Alpha had settled his own door. “You haven’t closed the door?”  
  
Scott frowned. “You have?”  
  
Stiles should be offended by the amount of surprise in his friend’s voice but he just sighed. It was all part of Scott’s human that as he was human he was naturally weaker. Stiles could admit that physically he was stronger - but Stiles kicked their ass in the mental department. “Yeah I did. Just like I told you, I found my anchor.”

 

Lydia pursed her lips like she was contemplating a mystery. She knew in theory she should be the anchor as she helped him in the surrogate sacrifice but she wasn’t the anchor. So the question remained who was it?

 

  
  


The anchor in question had rocked up at the Sheriff’s house bringing a new grill with him and several bags that screamed designer clothes.  Anyone who looked on was curious but the man in question had a key and no one would be stupid enough to break into the Sheriff’s house and bring gifts - so they left him be.

 

The sheriff got home for a relaxing evening. He deserved it with all the crazy going on around town recently. He was also having to deal with that asshole breathing down his neck. He was barking up the wrong tree if he thought creating a ground for impeachment would impress Melissa.  

 

What he heard was his son shouting expletives and what looked like a bonfire starting in the backyard. He took his time knowing it was just Peter and his son. Truth be told, he can remember some very similar arguments between himself and his wife at the beginning.

 

He dropped his Sheriff Jacket and locked up his piece in the safe as regulations demanded. What he didn’t do is removed the one at his ankle. He’d not removed it when awake since he had learned what went bump in the night was real.  He saw Peter standing over the fire looking way too gleeful for someone who had suffered an arson attack.

 

“What is going on?” He asked not to sure he wanted to know but asking anyway.

 

Stiles was pouting, “I went to get the turkey burgers and this asshole burnt my shirts when I was away.”  
  
Peter looked solemn, “I considered it a public service Sheriff.”  
  
John Stilinski could not remember such a light moment in their lives for quite awhile. He missed Claudia in moments like this.  She would know how to handle the fact that Stiles was willingly mated to a man fifteen years his senior. Still he was willing to roll with the levity, “In what way pray tell?”

 

“The tartan shirts were a public eyesore and as such I chose to turn them to ashes.” Peter informed him solemnly.  
  
Stiles whimpered, “And what am I supposed to wear?”  
  
Peter was glad for the opening and seeing the smile on his son's face - the Sheriff just knew that everything would be okay. Peter pulled several bags that just screamed designer come into view. “You can wear these?”

 

“Dad are you just going to let him do this? There must be some sort of violation he is causing?” Stiles was pleading probably in defense of what little remained of his standard wardrobe.

John was a bad man as he was kind of glad that Peter had done it. He knew his son and knew that he used his clothes as a shield. It was clear to John that Stiles had decided what type of man he wanted to be and it was time for stop hiding in the shadows.

 

“Sorry son. You are giving me turkey burgers. Peter has beer ...” And he held his hand up to say that he wasn’t finished, “Plus I told you that I would not get between you and your mate.”

 

Stiles was not truly mad as if he was - then he would have stopped it. “How am I supposed to blend into the background if I am wearing skinny jeans you creep?”

 

“You don’t blend Stiles and that it is the point.” Peter explained seriously, “Just because Scott is an idiot doesn’t mean you should subscribe to his vision.”

 

Stiles melted at that and John watched his son accept the hug freely. He was comfortable and affectionate with Peter - he’d been wary to begin with he but he was starting to see that the wolf was possibly the best thing for Stiles. He already knew that as a result of their bonding - he was sleeping better and that had helped assuage some of his guilt.

 

Stiles pulled away, “You can finish the cooking while I go and put my new wardrobe away.”

 

The sheriff was glad that he had Peter alone. “You might not be what a father should want for their son ... but thank you.”  
  
He knew that Peter was not the type of man to be caught off guard very often but he was speechless, “Look, I know I can never atone ...”  
  


John shook his head, “I know that you will tear the world down to keep him safe and that is all I can ask for.”

 

Peter was solemn looking up at the room which was Stiles, “On that you have my word.”

 

The Sheriff could hear the truth in these words and something settled in his heart. He looked at the fire rather than Peter. “You can stay if it is what you both want. No PDA’s until next week and when your relationship moves to the next stage ... I don’t want to know.”

 

Peter looked him directly in the eyes, glowing red but not with the intent to intimidate but out of respect, “Yes, Sheriff.”

  
Stiles reappeared at that point, “What is going on?”

  
Peter shook his head, “Just discussing rules.”

 

Stiles frowned, “Should I be worried?”  
  
“No, Sparky. We came to an understanding.”

 

Stiles snorted, “Is that the best you can come up with?”  
  
Peter looked him up and down, considering his love for his red-hoodie there would be extra irony if he chose to pursue the other nickname he was considering. “I could always go with Little Red.”

 

Stiles was quick to agree, “Sparky is great, Creeper.”

 

Stiles didn’t know but was happy to stand side by side with two of the most important people in his life. The dark had fully descended but they were not scared, just content to revel in silent companionship.

  
  


 

Derek was glad he had gone on the trip with Cora; they needed the time to reconnect. She was safe and he knew that it was time to return home.  He can’t say that he was unhappy for having lost the Alpha spark. It was more interesting this way, and on his way back he’d run into a mercenary, called Braedon, and both had fought their way out of a bar. She was exotic, dangerous and aware of their world.  It had been the most fun he’d had in years and both were reluctant to part from the other at the end of it. So Derek did something for himself, and suggested they didn’t part ways.  He didn’t know for sure yet but he had the feeling it could be the best gamble he ever made.

 

This was how he he found himself standing outside Peter’s apartment with Braedon. He had warned her about Peter but he felt that it was important to see Peter before Scott and he was smart enough to listen to his wolf even if he was confused by the instincts. In fact when he looked over at Braedon, she had the sexy infuriating smirk,

 

“So are you going in to see your creepy-Uncle?” She asked, bemused.

 

“Yeah we should go up ... he is better to be seen to be believed.” He said with a hint of fondness. He was never going to totally trust his uncle again but he realised before he left with Cora that he needed to make peace with his uncle or lose what remained of his family.  It took Derek entering the loft and meeting his Uncle to know things had gone very wrong. His Uncle was an Alpha once more - it was fitting really. He always sought power and had once again managed it.

 

He was tired and had trekked from South America so his flippancy could be forgiven, “Please tell me you didn’t kill a Hale this time.”

 

Braedon tensed alert to kill if necessary. Derek shook his head to say that it was unnecessary. After all, if his Uncle was already an Alpha then there was nothing that he could take from Derek. At least he knew that Cora was safe and sound in South America.  
  
Peter looked up from his book and didn’t even blink; he was surprised by the lightness in his nephew’s voice. “I’m shocked you would think it ... besides it was Jennifer death that gave it me back.  She took something that wasn’t hers to give.”

 

Braedon gasped, “Wait, the bitch who bewitched you?”  
  
Stiles looked up from his laptop, which he was using on the table.  He was glad that he was surfing the web because their secret might have come out if Derek had walked in seeing him reading on Peter’s lap. “That would be the one but hey guess what? Ding dong the witch is dead.”  
  
Peter snickered, “For the thousandth time she was a Darach.”

 

“I know ... my way is funnier.” Stiles replied unrepentant.

 

Derek rolled his eyes - distance really had put the events into some perspective. “You had to do more than throw water over her though, right?”  
  
Peter shrugged, “I went with the Hale way ... a claw to the throat.”  
  


Braedon’s vicious comment of, “Good she got what she deserved.” delighted both Peter and Stiles.

 

Stiles’ eyes sparkled at the macabre turn of the discussion, “Well there is no point in changing the classics, is there?.”

 

Derek looked between the pair. He was not sure why he was not mad. He knew that they were something to each other and he should be trying to slam his Uncle into the wall but he wasn’t: the question was why? He decided to ask rather than come up with stupid assumptions, “What are you to each other?”  
  
Stiles sighed as that was a rather tangled question, “I am his mate and balanced his mind whilst he tries to rebuild safely.”  
  
Derek shook his head, “You are more than that.”

 

The bond of pack was more than that and he was already forming the tie despite all the troublesome history.  Still before they left he and Cora had reached an understanding with Peter - they might not forget but they would work on forgiveness. Peter had been stunned and in an uncharacteristic moment of vulnerability and asked, ‘why?’  The answer had been simple and it amounted to that Derek had come to realise that Peter would never forgive himself.  At the end of the day - they were family and they had so little of it left.

 

Stiles considered it and knew that this was their chance to build a fresh pack learning from their mistakes - mistakes like too much secrecy. He didn’t know what to make of the scary badass woman but figured she and Derek at least had a love of leather in common. till Peter was willing to tentatively trust her it seems as he answered his nephew, “Deaton underestimated Stiles by assuming he was just a low-level Spark.”

 

“You’re the Hale Emissary?” Derek said and there was a question in there but he was not certain what it was.

 

Peter was laughing, “That is such a simplistic word - and Stiles is far too proactive to be a traditional Emissary.” A touch firmer he added, “And that is only if he chooses it.”  
  
Derek looked stunned - if you were not a potential Emissary then you were a magic user. Very few packs were stupid enough to challenge a pack containing a magic user as the attacking pack had no way to answer the magical assault. By the moon Derek cursed, things were starting to make sense - like how Peter was stable without any betas. Why Stiles was not as affected by the Nemeton - Peter was balancing him. There were still so many questions though, like why hadn’t Scott noticed his supposed best friends mating? Why had he assumed that Stiles was a squishy breakable human? What did the Sheriff think?

 

His turmoil must have been obvious as Stiles broke out into giggles. "I think we broke him.”

  
“He will figure it out.” Peter assured him and pulled Stiles onto his lap. He didn’t seem to care any longer as the secret was out. He was glad the secret was out as both of them relaxed as soon as they came into contact with each other.

 

Braedon looked between the pair,  who she assumed were a mated pair, “Will this be a thing?”

 

Stiles shrugged, “The asshole is growing on me.”

 

She could see Derek shake his head in a sort of bemused resigned way. “Well okay then so can someone tell me why Beacon Hills is hitting every mercs radar.”  
  
Stiles whined and hid his face in Peter’s shoulder, “It’s a Tuesday isn’t it?”  
  
Peter chuckled and patted the boys shoulder. She wasn’t quite sure what she thought about it but she could see that Derek liked Stiles if nothing else.  Derek would later explain that he’d been momentarily struck by a revelation  It hit Derek like a brick - this was his old Uncle; the one from before the fire. He was the one who was mischievous and devious but absolutely the one you wanted on your side whenever you ran into trouble.

 

Peter had not forgotten his nephews question, “Why don’t you and Ms Braedon sit down?”  
  
Stiles perked up but both noted how he didn’t seem like he was going to move any time soon. Derek was impatient, “What is it?”  
  
Stiles started to explain as it had been his crazy dreams that led them to some of the the clues. They had not fully put it together yet but they were getting closer.

 

“Scott has no clue?” Derek asked astonished at the cluelessness being shown. The sad part was where Derek didn’t know what he was asking about; the bit about the Nemeton or the way Stiles had bonded with Peter.  
  
Stiles looked mad, “Well he has let the True Alpha thing go to his head and he is listening to Deaton only.”  
  
Derek snorted as he had put his trust in Deaton and it had not gotten him very far - Not that he was bitter.  He was beginning to understand so many things - like Scott might be in Beacon Hills, even a True Alpha, but the Alpha of Beacon Hill was once again a Hale.  He was laughing in disbelief, “You two together are dangerous.”

 

The pair looked back at him with the worst attempt of an innocent look he had ever seen.  Peter looked sad, “That hurts nephew.”  
  
Stiles smirked leaning over him, placing his hand over Peter’s heart, “Right over his non-existent heart.”

 

Braedon laughed at loud, “You guys are twisted.”  
  
Derek was glad that she liked his pack because she honestly had no clue what Stiles and Peter were capable of but Derek was home. He had a pack - and it was family. He would deal with everything else later. “I’m ...”

  
Stiles smiled softly at the lost looking beta, “Home big guy? Yeah you are.”

 

Derek sat next to Braedon, hand entwining with hers, “So what did we miss?”

 

As it turns out - they would not be staying long because when they explained his potential cousin. Derek promised that there was a way to ask Talia.

  
Peter was stunned, “How?”  
  
“Moms claws are the only things that survived Uncle.”  
  
Stiles saw the hope in Peter’s eyes. He knew that the thing with Malia bothered him as he had no memory of her or her mother and yet she carried his scent. For now, the girl was reunited with her adoptive father and Stiles was glad that his Dad had managed to get the case closed and throw McCall’s quest to get him impeached out.  Peter squeezed his hand, “Will you retrieve them?”  
  
Derek looked sheepish, “I had them surrounded in mountain ash.”  
  
It was prudent and a useful deterrent. Stiles laughed at the way Braedon rolled her eyes, “Good job you will have little ‘ole me there to keep you safe.”

 

They did not stay long after that.

 

  
  


Stiles and Peter had stayed with his Dad that night as they had been researching using the internet mainly.  They woke up with a start hearing some very choice expletives , which was shocking considering the source- Stiles’ Dad. Stiles thanked god they were both dressed respectably as they would have gotten more than a little shit about rushing down into the kitchen wearing no clothes.

 

“Where’s the fire?” Peter asked, and not a second after,

 

“Who has been killed or needs killing?” Stiles asked not missing a beat.

 

You have to give them some credit. Their memorable entrance managed to distract his father from whatever had angered him so. “Agent McCall sticking his nose where it don’t belong.” He frowned, “And that was not the person I expected asking each question.”

 

Stiles looked sheepish, “Sorry, it’s become a default question.”  
  
His Dad gave him a long  exasperated look, “That is not reassuring. Be careful out there today.”  
  
Stiles frowned, still rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “Okay ... any particular reason why?”

 

“William Barrow is being treated at Beacon Hills,” his anger was apparent and Stiles could totally understand why. William Barrow was bad news and a complete psycho. He remembered the case before the guy was finally caught.

 

“Why is the serial killer coming to town?”  
  


Stiles thought it was tragic that the only plus point was that the killer was a normal standard human psycho. He really needed to fix his expectation.

  
His Dad put his newspaper down, “My guess is after his impeachment case fell through Agent McCall’s superiors are showing their displeasure.”  
  
Peter and Stiles shared a look of consternation because there was no way this would go smoothly.  Stiles was not surprised that Peter asked, “Is Melissa helping with the procedure?”

 

Stiles did not like the sound of that, “Do you trust the FBI dad?”  
  
His Dad was stressed because the answer was clearly , ‘no,’ but he also did not have the the ability to offer all the man-power as he was still rebuilding his force from after all the craziness of last year. “I have no choice but to comply, that is why I am saying stay alert at school today.”  
  
Stiles could see a hint when it was right in front of him. “I’m going, bye Pops, bye Creeper.”  
  


Stiles started moving at rapid speeds that all teenagers develop when they have the possibility of being late.  He just really hoped that Peter talked to his Dad about Malia - so he could explore legal options.

 

  
Stiles was still impressed that he made it to school in time for first period. Lydia was there to greet him. “We need to talk.”  
  
He fluttered his eyelids , “Oh, how I longed to hear those words.” He could play the role expected of him. He was meant to be crushing on Lydia. If only the others had realised just how much his tastes had changed - female to male being just the first of them.  
  
Her eyes narrowed, clearly not appeased by what he said.  “Past tense.”  
  
Stiles had never been so relieved to be saved by the bell. "Oh look, Chemistry is starting."

 

Lydia said nothing and frowned at Scott but he seemed to be mooning over the new girl and didn’t realise there was nothing wrong. Stiles just sighed, seeing the same thing as Lydia, as this was going to be fun. First of all, he was not over Allison and then he was making eyes at the history teacher’s daughter. Really he adored Scott when he was not being a dick but Stiles was of the opinion that now Scott was a True Alpha - he really should be thinking with something bigger than his dick.

 

Was that too much to ask for?

 

Lydia looked at him, seeing the same thing and asked Stiles, "When did this happen?"

 

Stiles was grateful for the reprieve about talking about his own life so just shrugged, "Last I knew he was beating up Isaac for looking at Allison."

 

Lydia rolled her eyes as she knew all about that potentially brewing theresome - it was ironic but it might be best if Scott dated  the new girl. Maybe that was unfair on Lydia's part but it would be a conveniently neat solution for all involved.  

 

 

Stiles had been unable to shake off his feeling of dread; he could feel something wrong in the air. He was getting an antsy feeling and couldn’t ignore it any longer. The first thing he did was check with Lydia, "Can you feel it?"

 

She nodded but looked to be spacing out, "Lydia?"

 

"I've been hearing a sound like a fly buzzing all day. It is so annoying it is making me ..." She trailed off as she was having difficulty explaining what she was feeling. In fact, she was close to asking for a painkiller - for her growing headache.

 

Stiles got a sinking feeling, "Like you wanna scream?"

 

The look on her face told him everything he needed to know - without her saying anything. He knew in his heart that this had something to do with Barrows. He hoped his Dad, Peter and Melissa were all okay.

 

Scott caught up to them, "What's wrong?"

 

Stiles shrugged, "Well Lydia feels like screaming which is never a good sign."

 

Scott was concerned, "Why?"

 

Stiles saw his Dad and Scott's dad, he went with flippancy to deliver the bad news. "I'm gonna guess that a mass murder has escaped from hospital.  Oh and the killer has a fondness for murdering teens."

 

Lydia was sharp as whip. She could guess he knew more about the situation "That is oddly specific."

 

Stiles wanted to bash his head against the locker, "It is because William Barrow was at Beacon Hills General earlier today and add that to Lydia's senses itching ... I'm going to go with another shitty day in Beacon hills."

 

Yeah, Stiles definitely had the urge to maim something. Peter would help him do it. He was sure of it. The question was: where was the target?

 

Scott knew that this was a human evil but he could harm the people in school. It was important for the pack to help, "The pack could try and scent him out. We can’t let him harm innocents."

 

Stiles would never approve of the pack being used as sniffer dogs but this case would be an exception, "I'll go talk to my Dad see if I can find out anything."

 

It just so happened that his pops called him over,  "Son what is the likelihood of flies ... flying out of a dead tumour being supernatural?"

 

Stiles sinking feeling was getting worse by the minute, "It can happen naturally but if there were more than a few then it suggests a possession or at the very least heavy suggestion on an external creatures part." He did not want to ask this as he was already sure he knew the answer, “Why?”

 

"Perfect. Barrow was spotted three blocks away having escaped from his operation where exactly that happened.” His Dad was clearly unhappy as he said the next bit, “Stiles he did what he did because there were teenagers with glowing eyes that he needed to stop."

 

Stiles was beginning to really hate his day, "Will you object if I contract out some discrete help?"

 

His Dad did not like it but quite frankly they needed Barrow caught yesterday. "Do what you can ... And don't get caught!"

 

Stiles was relieved because that meant he could call Peter too. He really wanted to know how his creeper was doing on the Malia front anyway.

 

Twenty minutes later all were frustrated, Scott had had all the wolves back to him and none could find his scent. Stiles believed that that was true but there was something still wrong and Lydia still couldn’t shake the feeling of death either which was so not helping.  He was not the type to be overdramatic but he was also not the type to dismiss a Banshee when she has a feeling of dread. It never ended well.

 

“What now?” Stiles asked Scott, remembering that technically even if he was friends with these people they were no longer his pack. It was sad that that did not hurt as much as it should have.

 

Scott shrugged his shoulders, which really made Stiles want to roll his eyes.  It was not really the response you would expect of a True Alpha.  Still, he remembered one of Peter’s speeches being that he couldn’t antagonise the True Alpha. He could think what he wanted - he should hide his true thoughts.

 

“We can’t find him.”  
  
Lydia growled, showing perhaps she was getting influenced by the Pack she was part of. “Then why can I still feel him?”

 

“You haven’t shaken the feeling of death Lydia?” Stiles asked trying to lead Scott to the right conclusion.

 

She shook her head, “No. You must have must have missed him.”

 

Scott did not know what else to do, Stiles sighed wondering why he was the one who always had to come up with a plan. “Barrow hated children with glowing eyes. Now considering several of you fit that description - he could have just as easily left a bomb.”  
  
He and Lydia got a sinking feeling, it made sense. The guy was smart, irrespective of his crazy. His mind started whirling, “If you were gonna use the school ....”  
  
Lydia caught his train of thought, “I would use the boiler room.”

 

Stiles was doing the math in his head. The right manipulation there and the odd substance left close by and it would be child’s play. “Shit. If you rigged it just right you’d blow the school sky high.”  
  
The twins were disturbed by just how easy it was for Lydia and Stiles to consider blowing the school sky high. They might not have the same strength as the others but there minds made them twice as deadly in many ways. They would not forget that fact in a hurry.

 

Scott was in silent agreement with them. He may be the Alpha but he listened when Stiles and Lydia told him what could be a very real threat to the school.  “We need to get people out of here.”  
  
Stiles looked sheepish, “Fire bell would do the trick but my Dad would kill me if I got in trouble again.”  
  
It was the truth, he was more worried about Peter bitching him out though. He was supposed to be staying out of as much trouble as possible, which was ridiculous.  He would always find trouble - it was not his fault.

 

Scott could tell what needed to be done, “We will get the school shut and then the betas and I can sneak back in.”

 

Lydia gave Stiles a look. It was so severe that he was wondering why Scott was not cut in two. He was smarter than Lydia though, Scott was too stubborn and arrogant to think that the humans, even as smart as they were would be any use. It was better to agree and then go there own way.

 

“Whatever you say buddy.” Stiles agreed, not really meaning it.

 

As soon as the pack split up, Lydia gave him a look, “You didn’t really mean that did you?”  
  
“Hell no.”  
  


Lydia looked determined, “Good let’s go hunting.”

 

And they were not even wolves. They would destroy the world if they ever did become wolves.

 

  
  


Stiles and Lydia carefully walked into the chemistry classroom. They may be dealing with a human nut-job but if he came out swinging then they could still be hurt.  The killer had definitely been there as they could see the specks of blood trailing towards the board.  There was some writing on the board but not much. It was just three numbers 19, 53 and 88.

 

Stiles hated cryptic messages, “So let’s see chem classroom.”

 

Lydia rolled her eyes, “It is not difficult and your GPA is high enough.”  
  
Stiles saw it, one of the weekends when he’d been bored, and Harris had been a major douche he had learnt all of the names and the atomic numbers in the Periodic Table. “The letters are K-I-Ra, at least that is what they would spell.”  
  
Lydia was intrigued. “So what is our new girls secret then? Someone wants her really dead.” She looked brightly at Stiles, thinking of a positive point, “You get to tell Scott.”

 

Stiles was curious too but that would come later. He knew that Scott was getting closer to the new girl. It might just be his type. He was thinking about what he remembered from the file on Barrow. He was going to guess that the psycho already had her because that was the way that their luck ran in Beacon Hills.  “Where will we he take her?”

 

“It would have to be secluded. All of Beacon Hills is looking for him.” Lydia reasoned.  
  
Stiles nodded as that would be true, he started to pace as he let his thoughts go free rein. He could feel Peter and knew that he was keeping an eye on him. He sent back a stray thought that he was okay. He felt the bond settle but he had no doubt that Peter was creeping closer. It was strange that he now felt safe by that thought rather than terrified.

 

His mind went back to the problem at hand. There was more to it. Barrows was a freak and a zealot. He’d taken Kira for a reason. Stiles would put any money on Kira having glowing eyes.  Barrow was injured. He’d done a botch job but he was like a wounded animal. He would go back to a fox-hole where he would be safe. If he was the type to embrace a cliché he would be shouting Eureka. He knew where they would be.

 

“The power station!” He exclaimed, flushed with pleasure at having solved it.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

Stiles rolled his eyes. Lydia was a genius but Stiles was the one who understood how to follow an evidence trail and use a person’s file to predict behaviour. It was the only place that fit all the parameters of his behaviour.

  
“That is where he would take her. Lydia he was an electrical engineer.”

 

He must have been convincing because she had her mobile phone out, clearly texting Scott. “You drive, I will get Scott there.”

 

Stiles kind of wanted the whole pack but every person counted. “Yes ma’am.” He was getting his own back up but using the pack bonds of the Hales to do it. Who needed modern technology when you were a true pack?

 

When they got there, Scott’s first comment was, “What are you doing here?”  
  
Stiles tried not to feel affronted, “I’m trying not to feel emasculated buddy.”  
  
Scott shook his head, mulishly adding,“You could get hurt.”  
  
Stiles rolled his eyes, “So could Lydia but you don’t have a problem with her being around.” He shut the argument down before it began, “Let’s just agree to disagree and go and rescue Kira.”

 

That got his attention. Scott was awesome at wanting to rescue people so Stiles knew it would distract him for long enough to get this done. Stiles winced seeing Scott slam into the wall, as he realised Scott was never going to be able to fight electricity - he was out one well timed shot. It wasn’t Scotty’s fault. Barrow was a human monster and that required a different way of thinking.

 

“Why?” He found himself asking. He was buying time.

 

Lydia was staring at him in disbelief. “Why are we talking to the crazy person?”  
  
Stiles was surer as for a few brief minutes. He’d been able to distract Barrow’s attention from a very scared Kira. Stiles couldn’t tell immediately what she was - he was curious though. He did what he did best and started to talk.

 

“He is not crazy, are you?”  
  
“No one will listen to me. They need to be stopped like the movie.” He said and whilst Stiles might have said he was not crazy. He was lying through his back teeth. Still, he was expecting the conversation to be a little more coherent. “Which movie?”  
  
“The creepy one with the kids in the village.”

The way he was tilting his head Stiles was sure he was talking to someone they couldn’t see. Another great sign of mental stability right there - he was guessing the medication schedule was not too strict in the prison.

 

Stiles was failing to see the connection or the movie if he was honest. “What was it called?”  
  
“The Village of the Damned.”  
  
Shit, that was not good. Barrows was sure that Kira was cursed. It was intriguing, as Stiles knew she wasn’t a wolf so it begged the question - what was she?

 

This would not end well, he knew it. “Why electricity?”  
  
“It is pure. It will make sure we’re all cleansed.”  
  
Stiles could see the fear in her eyes, he hated that she was so scared. It was kind of sad that he no longer wanted to curl up into a small little ball as a result of danger. He held Lydia’s hand for no other reason than if this went bad. He could use his spark as a shield. He was just pissed that he didn’t think that he could cover Kira as well. She was too young and pretty to die because of some nutjob. The terrible part, she wouldn’t even be the first person in Beacon Hills, to die this year. Stiles would know he had called all of them friends.

 

“Stay close.” Stiles whispered. He was counting on Lydia’s banshee hearing helping her hear his plea.

 

Barrow tilted his head to the side, almost as if he was listening to a voice. It did not matter whether the voice was real - it was the command he had been waiting for. Stiles watched as the psycho joined the two live sparking ends together and that was that. The station exploded as 1.2 gigawatts of energy tore through the coils. Lydia and he were far enough way that they would not be too bad, and he turned away from the blast and shielded Lydia with his body. He was never so glad that Scott had charged in as he was far away from the blast zone. There was also the small part where he was not too sure that he could shield two other people.

 

Lydia screamed and he did not blame her, but his eyes were being drawn to the glowing light show. It was getting brighter and brighter, and he was sure that the epicentre was where Kira had been sitting. This was a new one. He could not wait to share this one with Peter.  Once they could risk moving, sure that they would not get zapped, Stiles shouted, “Scott buddy you okay?”  
  
“Kira?”  
  
Well, that was just fucking typical, Stiles thought and given Lydia’s pursed lips, tight with annoyance, he was not the only to think it. He was mad, “I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Scott.”  
  
Scott was staring entranced at Kira, who had managed to get out of her bindings. Her hands were still glowing with the electricity, she was absorbing into her hands.You could tell from the look on her face (read: freaking out) that she had no clue what was going on.

 

Stiles sighed, recognising the signs of a lovestruck best friend. He could just tell that it would be like Allison all over again.  He was glad that this time he had Peter and the Hale pack to keep him company.  It was a sad state of affairs that he did not even get excited over the glowy light trick she could pull.

 

He just said, “Guess I’m not the only spark around here?”

 

Lydia was looking at him. She was looking at him as if he was a puzzle that she had yet to solve. She clearly knew that he had shielded her, and she could not figure out how.

 

It didn’t matter - Stiles was a master at self-preservation so he offered a distraction, “Scott offer her your coat and we need to figure out what we’re going to say to our Dads.”

 

It was going to be a long night. He just knew it. What fun? Instead of being curled up with Peter he was going down to the station to be questioned.

 

Stiles would rather be anywhere than stuck in a room with a love sick Scott and his douchebag father. He’d never been fond of Papa McCall and that had turned to outright hatred when he’d tried to impeach his Dad. It was sad. Papa McCall wanted to make up with Scott but he was too stupid to actually apologize. Instead, he makes up some bullshit excuse to stay around Beacon Hills and try to interrogate teenagers who for once had done a good deed. Where was the justice?

 

“So, how did you know Barrow would be at the station?” Agent McCall asked, frustration laced through his voice. It was a good sound to hear. Stiles knew that it must really burn to hear that some meddling kids had figured it out before him.  
  
Stiles was smug, “Well, Lydia and I saw the debris of what looked like a DIY operation and we walked into the classroom and saw the message left on the whiteboard.”  
  
Lydia jumped in doing her best queen bee impression, “Someone left a pathetically coded message spelling out Kira’s name.”  
  
Agent McCall was frowning probably at the intended subtle insult. He really did adore Lydia she was a queen amongst men.  “In what way?”  
  
She looked at him like he was a single-celled amoeba not a member of the FBI. “Well Stiles and I are in AP Chemistry it wasn’t hard to crack a message left in atomic numbers.”  
  
Stiles could see that his Dad was really enjoying it and knew that Peter would have got a kick out of it too. It was for the best though as Peter wanted to kill the Agent for potentially harming a member of his pack. It did not help that by closing Malia’s case ended the issue - it was the intent to harm the Sheriff’s career that had put him on Peter’s shit list.  

 

It was clear that Papa McCall was not so sure, “And how did you end up at the electricity station?”  
  
Stiles shrugged, “Well he was crazy and electrical engineer. I decided to think like my pops and I got lucky.”

 

McCall was glaring at Stiles, like he was the reason behind this all. It was rude as Stiles was neither the perpetrator nor the puppet master. If he expected Stiles to break under his magnificent glare then he was sorely mistaken. After all, Papa McCall just didn’t have the claws, fangs to scare Stiles. Stiles smirked viciously when he looked away and tried to bully Kira.

 

“Is that how you remember it?”  
  
Stiles felt sorry for the way all three of them glared at her. She was so timid in comparison to them and new to some sort of power - Stiles could could practically taste the energy rolling off her. He would have to ask Peter what the fuck she was because she was going to make him sneeze - if she didn’t learn to tone it down.

 

She stuttered out, “Yes, Sir.”  
  


He affected a bored teenage drawl, “Can we go?”  
  


Papa McCall did not look convinced. He was such an asshole it was like he wanted to arrest his own son. The Agent looked to his Dad, “What do you think?”  
  
His Dad was so awesome for not rolling his eyes, “I think Kira is a very lucky girl and we should be thanking these three for making sure the situation was not a lot worse.”  
  
That was sobering and McCall realised that perhaps he was taking the wrong tack, “You’re free to go.”  
  
Stiles was not the only one who stood up eager of get the hell out of there. He was surprised at the way Kira finally spoke up, “Sir, can I get my phone?”  
  
“No, its evidence. Why?” He asked peevishly.   
  
She looked sheepish, “There are some deeply private photos on there.”  
  
The girl blushed and Stiles was impressed. He knew that McCall would make the wrong guess and just assume they naked pictures. Kira was raised in a way that values honour above all else.  He did not like the way McCall looked pleased to finally have one over someone. It was pathetic - if all he could manage to best is a high schooler then he was not FBI material.

 

He knew that his father would guess what he’d done but there would be no way to prove it. He looked at the phone and pushed his will through it. He was so happy when it sparked that it was really hard not to laugh when Agent McCall freaked out and dropped it.

 

His Dad was as close to laughing as Stiles had seen him, “Well I guess that settles it all. Kids you can go Stiles I needed to talk to you.”  
  
He wondered what he had done. “You okay Pops?”  
  


His Dad looked tired, “Yeah I’m okay. Listen something freaky is going down and I will not be able to get away. You can stay with Peter tonight ... In fact I would prefer it.”

 

Stiles was not going to kick a gift horse in the mouth, “And thanks Dad.”  
  
“For what?”  
  
Stiles smirked, “For making sure I didn’t have to talk to Scott.” His Dad didn’t make a big deal of it just pulled him in for a close hug. He was glad that he had a chance to talk to Peter because he had enough with whatever had caused all the crazy around here.

  
  


 

He went to Peter’s apartment. It was still a week before he would be legal but it didn't matter. He can’t believe he was thinking these things but - his relationship with Peter was more than just sex. It might unusual amongst his peers but Peter would be his first and last partner. He was not the type to play the field; he was a Stilinski man and they loved deeply and fiercely - once.

 

Peter was waiting for him and he had to smile.

 

“You do care for me.”  
  
Peter was indignant, “Of course I do you are my mate.”  
  
Stiles smiled softly, knowing that this was a side no one else would get to see, “I know big bad. Love you too.”

 

Peter just pulled him close, letting his mind relax and switch off slowly. Stiles knew he was exhausted but his mind was still too full of thoughts. It would take forever before he would be calm enough to sleep.  

 

When the fries were finished, “He doesn’t see me.”

 

Peter did not any more said. He knew who his mate was talking about. “That is their fault ... not yours.”

 

“Still sucks.” Stiles replied with startling honesty.

 

Peter the sneaky wolf was stroking his back just under his shirt. It was lulling him towards sleep. He was getting sleepier by the second. “What is really bothering you?”  
  
“How about I’m no longer in their pack but their bonds are so weak they don’t know it?”

 

Peter rolled his eyes. He was honestly clueless as to how people could be that clueless and still be alive. Well actually he did know - they had Stiles to rescue their ass. They say you don’t a good thing until it is gone. So maybe they would catch a clue? He doubted it. It didn’t matter though as Peter had seen his worth and Stiles was now his mate.

 

“Take heart in the strength of our bonds. We will make them see their follies in time.”  
  
Peter was not sure he’d said the right thing; it may have sounded threatening. He couldn’t tell anymore.  Stiles didn’t seem to mind as he snuggled closer. He chuckled softly at his mates reactions. If he was this sleepy - then they may as well go lie on the bed. It was far more practical.

 

Peter pulled him to bed. He was so sleepy and relaxed he was willingly led. He vaguely remembered changing into some clean boxers and then slumber claimed him. It was a great nights sleep.

 

 

 

His cell went off disturbing him early in the morning. Peter had been the one to answer the phone. Frowning in distaste, he offered only, “It is the screamer.”  
  


Stiles accepted the phone expecting to be berated about why he had Peter answering his phone this early in the morning.  Showing him how bad things, Lydia did none of those things. Instead she just offered an explanation of,

 

“Allison has been taken.”

* * *

 

_To be Continued in Twisted Mates: Chaos Reigns (Steter Big Bang)_

  
  



End file.
